1 Laugh, ye profane, and swell and burst,
With bold impiety:
Yet shall ye live for ever cursed,
And seek in vain to die.
2 The gasp of your expiring breath
Consigns your souls to chains,
By the last agonies of death
Sent down to fiercer pains.
3 Ye stand upon a dreadful steep,
And all beneath is hell;
Your weighty guilt will sink you deep
Where the old serpent fell.
4 When iron slumbers bind your flesh,
With strange surprise you’ll find
Immortal vigor spring afresh,
And tortures wake the mind!
5 Then you’ll confess the frightful names
Of plagues you scorned before,
No more shall look like idle dreams,
Like foolish tales no more.
6 Then shall ye curse that fatal day,
With flames upon your tongue,
When you exchanged your souls away
For vanity and songs.
7 Behold, the saints rejoice to die,
For Heav’n shines round their heads;
And angel guards prepared to fly,
Attend their fainting beds.
8 Their longing spirits part, and rise
To their celestial seat;
Above these ruinable skies
They make their last retreat.
0 Hence, ye profane, I hate your ways,
I walk with pious souls;
There’s a wide difference in our race,
And distant are our goals.